Wednesday, December 12, 2007

I WATCH MATLOCK WHEN I EAT LUNCH

I am having trouble often not feeling dumb before I speak. Most people find things more poetic if you switch up the way they are punctuated. This thought is similar to the advice my teacher Amy Hempel once suggested: "The more literal you are, the more metaphorical people think you are being." One day my jealousy might implode me if there is anything left to implode by then. I'd like my fingerprints to show up somewhere that I'm sure I've never been. At the scene of some brutal mercy killing, or an ecological disaster. I would not mind spending a long time in a single room as long as I could be alone. I would wear the orange incarceration jumpsuit long after I'd been released. I have a plan to witness trouble in an abstract sense.

'Let's see how long this night lasts with no tongue in your rectum' is something I'd like to say to someone sometime without sarcasm. The things I say out loud in real life often suggest that I am not who I most likely am. I have trouble with demonstration. I have trouble picking what I want to eat. When I do pick what I eat I find it is often not what I really wanted. I am probably not getting tickled enough these days. If I were a police officer I would go around in mom and pop stores picking things up things I want and putting them inside my shirt and looking to see if the owner would object. Instant oatmeal is underrated. If I ever get a tattoo, it will be of a word that does not exist. If I ever get a tattoo, please find me in the street.

For Christmas my sister and I are going in together to buy my dad a hummingbird feeder. Last year I got him a shit ton of lottery tickets and he didn't win any money with them. I put random stocks on my stock ticker on my Google homepage just to see the way their numbers move. Once I received an envelope in the mail addressed to me with absolutely nothing in it. I held it up against the light and it glowed a little, except the stamp.

I was reading POVEL by Geraldine Kim yesterday while waiting 45 minutes for this restaurant to make me two sandwiches to go and there was some line about how the majority of the emails she receives are from herself which is also true of me and reading that line made me laugh out loud.

You don't want what i'm eating. The neighbor offered me pasta and sauce and I'm nice sometimes so I said yesplease. The sauce looks like marinara but tastes like salsa. I told him I was going into my half of the house to use the microwave then locked the door behind me. Say "eating" since it's still sitting here on the coffee table. I gave it 15 seconds in the microwave for the noise.

hi blake. somebody found you through me. i made you motherfucker. you owe me. look at you, it used to be about the writing but know...you make me sick. i am sick right now. i am about to get sick all over my shirt and then someone will be like 'excuse me, i think you threw up on your shirt, maybe because of blake butler' and i'll say 'no that's just a design on my shirt.'